


One Saturday Night

by Impala_Dreamer



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 09:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16930821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Dreamer/pseuds/Impala_Dreamer
Summary: ~Sometimes you get a little more for your Gold Pass than is listed…~





	One Saturday Night

“So…” Misha leaned against the wall, his arm just above your head, hips gently pressing into your side..

You bit your lip and looked up into his electric blue eyes, trying to remain calm, trying to play it cool under the intense gaze and tension that had been flowing between you all day. “So…” you mimicked, cocking an eyebrow and pressing your head back against the wall.

Misha laughed under his breath and drew his pointed tongue across his thick, pink bottom lip. “Ya know,” he said in a deep whisper, “I haven’t worked this hard in a long time.”

It was your turn to laugh, and you gave him a cool shrug. “A girl’s gotta play hard to get. I can’t just strip for any guy who gives me the eye.” You looked away then, feigning disinterest, but really scanning the convention hall for wandering eyes. A few volunteers were scattered around, but the crowd was corralled outside in queues waiting to be let in for the concert, and you and Misha were drenched in shadows behind a wide column. As you looked around, Misha took things a step forward and set his left hand on your far side. You sucked in a breath as his fingers snuck up underneath your shirt to brush gently against the waistband of your jeans. He went no further, just resting his cool fingertips on your warm skin as his eyes burned into your face.

“I’m not just any guy,” he replied, moving an inch closer, letting his breath fan across your cheek.

You felt yourself tremble; a tiny shiver that worked its way up from his hand to your shoulders, shaking your bones and boiling your blood. “Oh no?” Your voice was tight, small; your confidence waning in the heat that pulsed off of his lips. “And, what kind of guy are you?”

“Why don’t you come find out?” 

He pulled you by the hand through the building, dipping behind columns and posters every few feet like a cartoon spy, in a race to sneak you away and avoid detection. You laughed as he moved about, pressing himself against walls and generally playing a fool while navigating the strange building. He shushed you harshly, but winked after each scolding, his fingers tight around yours throughout the rushed trek.

Finally, Misha found the door he was looking for and all but kicked it open, pulling you inside behind him. The photo op room was empty, the lights shut, random equipment laying about. You barely had a chance to register where you were before Misha closed in on you, his hands fitting perfectly around your face to hold you still while he bent his lips to yours. His kiss was heavy and deep, wasting no time breaking the ice with a swipe of his tongue over your soft lips. His hands slid back to cradle your neck and your nerves melted in the heat of his kiss. You could smell the bottle of vodka you’d shared on his breath; taste the lingering sweetness of bubblegum on his tongue.

Misha took a step forward, forcing you backwards with his hips and hands, walking across the big room until you were clear of wires and boxes on the floor. He stopped before the big blue backdrop and pulled you close, crushing you against his supple body. He was hard but soft; lean, strong muscles lay beneath a layer of softness that begged for your touch, and you gave in, reaching up underneath his black cotton tee to feel his smooth chest. He twitched when you passed over his stomach, laughing against your lips as you tickled him accidentally, and he pulled away just enough to pull your chin up to look down into your eyes.

“That tickles,” he growled; pink lips pulling back over a row of white.

You hummed and bit your lip, smirking up at him. “That just makes me want to do it again,” you teased and set your fingertips against his ribs.

“Don’t,” he warned with a half smile, his eyes narrowing at you like the Angel he portrayed. “Y/N…”

With a mischievous eyebrow wiggle, you set off, tickling his sides in earnest, earning a booming laugh and large hands bent on retaliation. When Misha’s fingers found your side, you shrieked and jerked away, but he caught you against and whipped you back into his arms. The rush went to your head and you fell forward, knocking him back against the big backdrop. The heavy fabric swayed as the stand rocked, and you both held your breath, waiting to see if it would right itself or crash to the floor.

The metal held strong, and gingerly, Misha backed away, tiptoeing comically out of the danger zone. You laughed as he scampered away and set your hands on your hips, catching your breath.

“Well,” you sighed finally as your laughter faded away. “I’m sorry.”

Misha shook his head and grinned. “No big deal. Everything…is fine.” He pressed himself against the wall, trying to appear casual in the wake of an almost disaster.

With the mood clearly broken, you looked around the dark room awkwardly, wondering if you should just turn tail and leave, call it a fun little adventure and head out to join the crowds. The noise level had picked up beyond the big door, and you knew they had reopened the hall in preparation for the show. Maybe now would be a good time to sneak out and get back to reality.

“This was…fun, thanks.” You gave Misha a quick smile and spun on your heel towards the exit. He didn’t say a word, but as you passed, his right hand shot out to grab your left, and he pulled you flush against him.

“Leaving so soon?”

You stammered, caught once again in the lustful glare of his blue eyes, and swallowed hard. “I just thought…”

“I’m not through with you yet.”

He licked his lips and then yours, instantly reigniting the fire within you. You parted your lips for him, taking in all he had to give.

All the playfulness was gone, replaced with a growling hunger as Misha spun you around in his arms and pinned you to the wall with his hips. He pressed up into you, spreading your legs with his muscular thigh. His lips were hungry, barely leaving your mouth for more than a second while his hands traveled your curves, moulding your flesh and forcing your heart to race. With both hands on your waist, he quickly pushed up your shirt and used his teeth to pull down your bra and uncover your breast. Those same teeth closed around your nipple, sending a jolt to your pussy as you moaned, arching your back up off of the wall.

Your hands flew to his head, holding him in place as he flicked his tongue across his target. You pushed your fingers through his soft black hair, tugging roughly when he bit down once more.

“Fuck…” you breathed into the silence and Misha looked up at you with a devilish grin.

“That is the plan.”

With a snap of his fingers, your pants were open, and Misha lay a trail of kisses across your stomach as he lowered himself down with your jeans. You melted against the wall, whimpering in anticipation as his hand slid slowly between your legs, urging them apart gently. You bent your knees, opening yourself to him, and Misha pressed the tip of his warm tongue up against your panties. He held it there, pushing gently against your clit, teasing you until your hips rolled against his face.

“Please…” The moan echoed in the dark, and you felt him laugh before his thumbs hooked under the elastic band of your panties. When they had joined you jeans at the floor, Misha dove in, spreading your pussy with his thumb and pinky while his lips closed around your swelling clit. You shut your eyes and let him work your body, gasping when he slid his two middle fingers into your wetness. Your legs began to shake around him, and you fingers pulled at his hair; the only thing you could hold onto.

The subtle shadow on his lip and jaw burned against your skin, but his big lips worked fast, keeping you distracted and floating.

Just before it hit, Misha pulled away and stood up, denying your release with a smirk has he opened his jeans and let them fall around his knees.

“You’re mean,” you panted, your hips rolling against the air, pussy clenching around nothing.

Misha grinned and pushed his full weight against you, knocking the air from your lungs and brushing his lips against your mouth. “I bet I can change your mind.”

“Go ahead and try.”

His hands slid under your arms, and in an instant, he had you off your feet, dangling between him and the wall. You wrapped you legs around his trim waist and held your breath as he sank his thick cock deep inside. Sparks flew behind your closed eyes as your head slammed back against the wall, stretching your neck and giving him a new place to sink his teeth. Misha bit down hard in the crook of your neck and sucked a mark just below the collar of your shirt; a little souvenir to take home with you.

You clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his amazingly strong arms as he fucked you fast and hard; his lips in a tight line, his voice deep as he grunted with each labored thrust.

The pleasure flowed through you, collecting in a tight ball of energy between your thighs, and you lost yourself in the feeling, forgetting the hordes of fans on the other side of the thin walls. You could hear them shuffling about, hear their excited chatter, but all you could focus on was the snap of Misha’s hips and the deep rumbling moans that vibrated in his chest.

Your hearts raced, cries voiced in tandem, sweat breached the surface of your foreheads. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you, and the pure fire behind his eyes pushed you over the edge. You spilled his name in a tight cry against his lips as he jerked his hips upwards at a frantic pace. Your body shook, muscles contracting, pussy pulsing around his cock, and with a final deep thrust, he followed you into bliss.

Misha’s head fell to your shoulder as his hips slowed, his body twitching against yours. You felt the sweat from his brow drip down your chest, and you held him tight as he calmed, breathing heavily and sighing against you.

 

Your seat was saved, but it was hard to pay any attention to the band, your mind still back in the dark room. You squirmed in your seat, still sore and pulsing from your forbidden tryst, your skin tingling at the thought of the blue eyed madman who had stolen you away from the convention.

After the final song, a surprise guest took the stage, and the crowd went wild as Misha rushed to the microphone to demand an encour. He looked just as you had left him: his clothing creased and rumpled, his hair standing on end, a product of your greedy fingers. The fans around you screamed and waved their arms, but Misha found you amidst the chaos, zoning in on the only woman he wanted to see. You blushed as his eyes locked to yours, the secret of your affair passing silently between you. Misha’s hands closed around the Mic, and he winked at the one fan who made his night.

It wasn’t a story you would ever tell, not a post ever likely to be written or believed, but you knew the truth. And that one Saturday night, at that one convention, would live in your dreams forever.


End file.
